Learning how to talk is something many of us have taken for granted. Once we reach a certain age, we do not remember what steps it took for us to be able to communicate with the people around us. We have already forgotten all the childhood frustrations of trying to tell a grown up something that they just can’t seem to understand, because the right words are just not coming out of our mouths in a way that makes any sense to them.
I remember coming up with the wrong words for certain items and finding out much later that the right word was something different. For the longest time, if I saw a big bowl of white, steamy, pureed potatoes, I would call them “smashed potatoes.” No one ever said anything to make me believe they were something different. Then, one day a little friend of mine began arguing with me that the real word for this food item was not “smashed” but “mashed.”
After getting nowhere between us, I took the argument up with a grown up who finally revealed to me that my friend was correct. Then I felt a little upset with my parents for letting me go so many years saying the wrong name.
Now that I am an adult, I find myself not wanting to correct my own children’s funny and cute labels for things. Recently, I’ve been buying little drinkable yogurts for Jared and Luke to have a snack. They have a little picture of a monkey on them and are just enough yogurt to provide a bit of refreshment between nap time and dinner time. Jared has decided that this item is called a “cow snack.” I still don’t know why. But every one of us in the house calls the drinkable yogurts “cow snacks” now.
Just today, I pulled out a little string of Halloween lights to put in our front yard. Basically, it is a string of smiling pumpkins that glow. Luke took one look at them and said, “Smiling gummys!”
So, there you have it. This fall, we will have a string of smiling gummies in our yard. I’ll correct the boys word choice sometime later on down the road.